Say you'll stay - Channing Tatum

P.8

"Another one," he tells the bartender and points at me. I never expected to see him again, but here we are, two days since I last saw him.

"What are you trying to do? Get me drunk?" I smile, taking a sip from my drink as I keep my eyes on him. Even in a cap he's handsome. He laughs.

I let my gaze rest on him before I look out over the dance floor. It's crowded and people are dancing like there's no tomorrow. Good for them.

"Look," I nod in the direction where a couple is seen grinding against each other and kissing frantically. "Get a room," I joke.

"God," He laughs again and a stifled sounds leaves my mouth.

Even if it's stupid, I'm glad he seems to enjoy himself. The puzzled face he wore a moment ago when I first looked at him is gone, but the reason as to why it was there was pretty clear.

"How have you been?" I carefully ask him once we've both stopped watching the couple. I don't really know if it's something I should ask. Maybe he'll find it rude and think that I'm only seeking gossip. I don't through.

"Good." He takes a sip from his glass. "Much is going on right now, I barely have any free time at all."

"But when you do, this is how you spend it." I say, trying to lighten his serious tone. A small smile shapes my lips as I carefully watch his reaction to the words I may regret.

He doesn't look at me in any other way, he just looks thoughtful.

"It seems like it." Is the only thing he says.

In the corner of my eye I see how my phone lights up. I take a quick glance at it, reading the message that's from Madison.

I'm Sorry!! I feel sick :(

Nothing I'm shocked about, but if Channing wasn't sitting here talking to me I would be mad. Alone and mad.

Locking the screen I look back at him, his blue cap hiding his face.

"How have you been then?" He asks when I don't say anything.

"Good. My schedule is full so sitting here, talking to you is really just.. a waste of my time."

"Yeah?" A grin shapes his lips.

"Yeah." I clarify, shrugging my shoulders.

The music is loud and heavy. Sweaty bodies are moving around in the building, creating paces that's not there as it lets the chaos escape all minds.

This is a place where you go for two different reasons. Either, you're looking for a good night filled with strangers and unexpected conversations, or, you're looking for the endless amount of alcohol that you find behind the thin glass wall.

The bartender suddenly comes over, leaning over to tell us something.

"I don't want to interrupt, but I just heard that there's paparazzi outside."

A second passes. "Right outside?" Channing asks the man behind the counter, getting a nod for answer.

In a matter of seconds he gets off the high bar stool with a clenched jaw.

"This is why I don't go out." He says before he swallows the last of his drink and signal to the bartender for two beers. He's given them, pays and is about to leave when he stops.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks me I raise my eyebrows.

"Um, no." I get off the stool.

He starts walking through the club, turning around once in a while to see if I'm keeping up with him. The heels are killing me and together with trying to focus on where he's going I fumble through the dance floor.

I catch him behind people, but I'm mostly walking blindly due to the darkness. It's people everywhere and trying to avoid moving bodies isn't the easiest. Especially not with alcohol running free in mine.

The further away we get from the bar and crowd, the lower the music gets. The walls tightens around us and creates a hallway that I guess is leading us away from the club.

A while later he finally opens a bigger door, allowing us to get out.

No one is here.

Not a single person, and it's suddenly like we're not on the same planet as we just were. It's a changed atmosphere, but it's a better one.

Only a second passes before he starts jogging towards the road.

"Comon'!"

"Are you kidding me?" I yell after him, looking down at my feet where my favorite black heels are.

From a distance I can hear him laugh as he only gets further away from me. I am not going to be left alone at a club I barely know, that's filled with strangers.

So I lean down and take the heels off before I start running after him.

What am I doing.

My gaze falls over the city lights guiding the way, my pace increasing. I don't know what I'm doing. The sound of wind blowing by fills my head as the darkness surrounds us.

I'm just running. Barefoot and in a tight dress, not knowing where I'm going.

He suddenly stops after what seems like a god eight minutes and I stand beside him, looking down. That's when I realise we're on a bridge. The water underneath us crashes into the concrete walls, turning the dark night to life.

After watching the road that's without ending, I turn to look at him. His cap is now in his hand and his eyes shines brighter in green then before.

"I wasn't actually expecting you to follow." He tries to hold back a chuckle that soon escapes his lips.

I don't know what to say so I just shake my head, letting my hair fall down over my face.

Out of nowhere he opens a bottle of beer. I have no idea where that came from.

He holds out his hand, another beer between his palm and his fingers. I gently take it from him, bringing my lips to the edge and he does the same.

"I lied before." He says, holding my gaze.

I move to lean my arms against the railing. "About what?"

"About how I've been." He breathes in deeply, directing his gaze towards the water.

Somehow we seem to be drawn to places like this. Places where you know you'll find water.

"I don't think I have ever felt so lost in my entire life."

I think we're both drunk and it's the alcohol speaking, but the things he's explaining goes deeper than that.

He takes a sip from his bottle before he lightly dangles it over the water.

"It's not fair." I say, putting his cap on my head. "In anyway at all really."

The sound of the water takes over once again and I'm somewhere between reality and not.

"But you don't know, right? She didn't tell you if it's really true?."

I dangle my bottle over the ground, a little harsher than him. The cold on my fingers makes the drink slip out of my hand, only to be crashed against the concrete.

"Fuck."

Right after I've said the word I bite down on my lip. Mom hates it when I swear.

His eyes search my face for something, but the corners of his lips soon twitch upwards.

"Sometimes you don't need words to tell you what is true and not. You just know."

A crash is heard and his bottle has turned into small broken pieces that's mixed together with the broken ones of mine.